


The Book Donation Ceremony

by goodwineandcheese



Category: Monster
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Except Grimmer and Roberto swap roles in this AU, Gen, scene retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodwineandcheese/pseuds/goodwineandcheese
Summary: Tenma comes face to face with an old friend as he aims to take down Johan once and for all. If only it could have been a pleasant reunion.





	The Book Donation Ceremony

**Author's Note:**

> So I was curious as to what canon would be like if Roberto and Grimmer swapped roles; if Johan had gotten to Grimmer, and Roberto wound up being more of the ally. This fic is a retelling of the library scene but now Grimmer takes on the role that Roberto originally had.

Tenma knew that he had to shoot. 

It was what he’d told himself all this time. The reason he was here, that he’d come so far. He was positioned perfectly; Johan was a clear shot, aligned exactly where he wanted him to be. All he had to do now was pull the trigger.

He just had to pull the trigger. But his _hands…_

They never shook like this when he shot at targets. All that training with Bernhardt had taught him a steady grip. But right now, between his shaking hands and beating heart…

For just a moment he pulled away. Just one moment. He stared at his hand, watching how violently it trembled. At the operating table, with his patient’s life hanging in the balance, he could work with the steadiest of hands, even under great duress, battling a thousand emotions and anxieties. But here, in this moment, with his target in sight, they wouldn’t stop shaking. There was a certain surrealness to the world as each second passed, as though time has slowed, as though he himself was floating in a void of empty space. 

His mind wandered backward, back to familiar faces. To Nina, whose parents were killed. To Maurer, his life taken too soon. To the middle-aged couples that suffered at that boy’s hands and even to the doctors at Eisler Memorial Hospital. Lives that didn’t need to be lost.

Now, Tenma had the killer within his sights. One shot. This would end it all. All of the killing. No one else had to die if he could just _shoot._ But like this...with his hands like this...if they kept shaking this way…

“Why…” he gasped, his voice kept low, spoken to no one but himself, gripped by a swell of despair. He balled his hand into a fist. _“Why?”_

Tenma wanted it to be over. With just a twitch of his finger, all the misery would finally end. So then why was-

“It’s because of what type of person you are, doctor.”

The voice took him by surprise. Airy and softly spoken, he recognized it almost immediately. With a flinch, he turned his back on Johan, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough; caught off guard, Tenma had no means to defend against suddenly being grappled from behind. He felt his grip fail as his rifle was twisted out of his hands and dropped, then the ground was rushing toward his face. He was able to catch himself with an arm bearing the weight of his fall, but any attempt to push himself upright or roll was immediately neutralized; he could feel heavy weight pushing down from above, holding him in place.

“There. That’s not so bad....just settle down, now.”

He knew that voice. He knew it, but he didn’t know where it was from. It had a calm character to it, warm and oddly inconsistent with the forceful way Tenma found himself pinned. He tried once more to pitch himself to the side, to throw the weight off, but it was no good. Tenma loosened his posture, allowing himself to melt into the floor just a little, heaving out a breath. His assailant didn’t shift or release his weight; undoubtedly he wasn’t taking chances.

“That’s not too bad. But I’ll need you to stay like that for a little while, doctor. I have something that I need to do for someone. An important friend.” 

The weight on Tenma’s body shifted, but it wasn’t to give him any freedom in mobility; even if he couldn’t see, the feel of some sort of fabric binding his wrists was enough of a hint that he wasn’t going anywhere, even without that added pressure holding him down. All the same, he could at least move freely enough to lift his head, to look up at whoever it was that had found him here.

Even though it was darker up on this level, the tall blonde man was easily recognizable, illuminated from the back like that. A head of messy hair, a very distinctive nose, and of course, that smile. The same smile he had worn when they first met.

“You’re…”

“Hello again, doctor.”

The man shrugged a shoulder, looking down at Tenma with that unreadable smile of his.

“It’s not really how I would have liked to meet you again. I'd much prefer if we could've had that picnic, but I suppose life isn’t always so kind.”

There was something apologetic in that voice. And Tenma…

Tenma didn’t know what to think.

This was the same man he had met unexpectedly, who had helped him escape the police on his way to Munich. Their travel together hadn’t been long, but in that time Tenma had learned quite a bit about him. About his travel to Japan, his late son, his work as a journalist. Grimmer..had believed in Tenma’s innocence. He had seemed like someone kind.

He watched, now, as the man slowly turned, crouching down to pick up the rifle that he had dropped. This was the same man who had been so kind toward that boy the pair had found, injured and alone. That same man now so easily picked up that thing...a weapon for killing, wearing that same complacent smile.

“I’ll admit, I’m a bit surprised you came this far. I didn’t think that you had the resolve. But now that you’re here...I know for sure that you don’t.”

Those kindly blue eyes were turned on Tenma once again, the smile warming just a fraction.

“This isn’t the sort of thing that you can shoot, doctor. You’re a very pleasant and kind person. Someone like that could never use this.”

“But you….”

Tenma’s voice came rasped and uncertain, choking on itself before he could finish. For once, that smile on Grimmer’s face faltered - still there, but just a little less prominent. It almost looked tired, now.

“I think you might have the wrong sort of image of me. I’ve definitely used weapons like this before."

A pause.

"I’ve killed people before.”

He quieted for a moment, letting those words sink in, settling into Tenma’s skin with a damp coldness. There was no menace behind them, Tenma didn’t feel he was being threatened, but from his short time with Grimmer...he would never have imagined he could have taken life. The blonde turned his face away, glancing back out into the crowd as they started to applaud, far below, entirely none the wiser to the danger that surrounded them.

“It feels different this time. This person I’m supposed to kill...it won’t be long before he dies on his own. And he’s just been reunited with his son. I don’t know how I should feel about it.”

Tenma shook his head slowly, staring with wide, anxious eyes. For Grimmer to be working with Johan all this time...

It just didn’t seem possible.

He had an open warmth about him, something that Tenma had easily become comfortable with. He was reluctant to rely on anyone, to share his burden with anyone, but he had found himself willing to trust in Grimmer, during their short time together. But that...that was all a facade. A lie, just like Johan. And what he was saying...his target…

He was going to kill Schuwald.

Tenma managed to roll himself onto his back, struggling to push himself as best he could, trying to pull his wrists free, though he wasn’t making much progress. He could feel the fabric loosening, but it wasn’t nearly enough. He needed time. He planted his feet, and managed to power himself upright with a little difficulty. Grimmer had turned away from him completely, was taking that rifle and realigning on his target.

“You don’t have...you can make a choice. You don’t have to do this.”

He didn’t know if Grimmer would listen. The Grimmer he had come to befriend was the sort who would answer when addressed, but he had no way of knowing if that, too, had been a facade; he spoke of his target, his orders. If he was duty-focused, blindly loyal to Johan, then he probably wouldn’t have much luck.

Grimmer did take a moment’s pause, quirking a brow at him with a soft, bemused huff.

“You’re right. I could always choose to disobey. But, this isn’t really about what I want, I don’t think. It’s what he wants. What _Johan_ wants.”

There it was again, that look that seemed somewhere verging between emptiness and sadness. He wondered if Grimmer was conscious of it. 

“You’re your _own_ person. You don’t have to do this! You don’t have to do what Johan tells y-”

“Quiet now, doctor. It’d be a problem if they heard us. It’s almost time.”

He still used that gentle, airy voice. But in his eyes...Tenma didn’t see anything at all. The empty look had consumed Grimmer’s face, swallowing that false smile completely, eating away even the sadness. The man before him was human, but the way he behaved seemed anything but. He stood there with that neutral face, maintaining perfect, silent form. He was waiting for something. A signal, something Johan would do to tell him it was time.

“It was Johan who sent me to save you, that time. It was important that you made your way to Munich. I was told to keep the police from capturing you.”

So it really _had_ all been an act. Tenma wondered idly just how much of Grimmer’s story had been true - that he was a journalist, his foreign travels, his son...in the end, he had put on a face that he thought Tenma would trust.

Even so, that didn’t explain that child. That boy they encountered…

He had been distrustful of Tenma’s approach, unwilling to let him treat his injuries even though he was clearly in pain. For whatever reason, the boy simply didn’t like Tenma; it had taken coaxing from Grimmer, and a warm reassurance, for the child to finally allow Tenma to look at him.

If his objective was just to help Tenma, to keep him out of reach from the police...there was nothing to gain from doing something like that. Which meant that Grimmer...

Despite everything, there was still some compassion to him. Something that Tenma hoped he could reach, even now. He tried again to pull his wrists free.

“So all of it was a lie. That story...it was made up.”

There wasn’t much Tenma could do to keep stalling. He kept talking, desperate to use _anything_ to try and reach the man. He just needed to get his hands free. To keep them talking. Grimmer shrugged a shoulder, though he was still watching Johan, waiting for some sort of response.

“I suppose you could say that. Though, it was all based in truth.”

Grimmer tilted his head back toward Tenma and he froze, stilling his attempts to loosen his wrists. There was notable progress, but it still wasn’t enough for him to pull his hands free.

“I really was a special correspondent, but I think it would be more accurate to say that I was a spy. I went to a lot of different places, following orders. I met a female reporter during my time in Leipzig, awaiting further instructions. We married and had a son, who died within the year. All of those things I told you were true.”

Tenma narrowed his eyes. If it had been a lie, then he could understand a little better. But what Grimmer was saying...

“Then why...if you’ve lost your own son…”

His voice came low, hoarsely, his face obscured by tangled, matted hair. Tenma looked up, an intense sort of fire now in his eyes. This was all affecting him more than it should. Tenma had no reason to be so invested, shouldn’t let himself be bothered, but there was something terribly cruel in Grimmer’s assertion. To have endured the pain of losing his own son...and now, with Schuwald...

“...How could you ever kill a man who’s just found his?”

Grimmer’s smile was back, but it felt somehow different this time. It felt poorly masked, like even he didn’t believe it this time.

“I’m about to do something horrible. That boy’s mother died years ago...and though they've only just met, his father loves him very much. It’s probably the worst thing that a person like me could do. But Johan…”

That smile seemed to brighten again, almost like it was genuine once more. That warmth had returned. He seemed almost haunted, lost in a daze.

“I've never known what it is to truly feel, since my childhood. I came from that place...the same place that he did. It took away everything that made me a human being. I really wasn't a person, after that. I followed orders, and did what I was told. So, when my son suddenly died, I didn't really know what I was supposed to do. How I should react, in that sort of situation."

Those words hit hard, stilled Tenma completely. He felt overwhelmed, at once, by that cold sense of dread.

Not once had he thought that Grimmer might have been...

"When I met Johan, when I told him my story...he cried for my son, and for me. I’d never seen anything like that. Those incredible emotions on his face...and when I saw how he mourned...this feeling…”

Grimmer’s eyes closed, a distance suddenly stretching between them. 

“I could finally feel it, all at once. All those things that I could never feel at the time. I'd never known such deep sadness in my life. I was finally able to cry for my son. My whole heart was aching. And it was beautiful.”

Tenma...didn't know what to say. Didn't _have_ anything that he could say.

As far as Grimmer was concerned, Johan had given him something human. Had allowed him to finally experience the sorrow he never could, emotions he couldn't have reached on his own. That sort of devotion...that wasn't something he could convince Grimmer to abandon.

Grimmer left it at that, turning to stare down at the gathered crowd, crossing his arms over the banister, the rifle abandoned for now. There were no visible tells that anything had changed; even if Tenma hoped to read the man, there was nothing for him to discern. 

“Johan gave me back a part of myself. Something that I thought I’d never get back. I may not always like what it is he asks of me, but even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could bear to refuse.”

Rotating his wrists now, Tenma could feel just a bit of slack. It hurt to twist them around too much, but it was giving him progress; so long as Grimmer kept his attention elsewhere, there was a chance he could break free and stop him somehow. At this point his priority was no longer shooting Johan; at least one other life was in danger, and he had to keep that man from being killed. He just had to separate Grimmer from the rifle. That, or he had to wrestle the weapon from his hands. Get it out of reach somehow. 

But there was a feeling...something that felt wrong, in a way that he couldn’t describe.

Something _was_ wrong.

And it only took a few short moments for the both of them to know exactly why.

It wasn’t the smell of smoke that tipped him off. Not at first. Truth be told, Tenma hadn’t noticed right away; too focused on Grimmer, he had completely lost track of his outer surroundings.

He heard it first in the screams and the bursting explosions and crackles of an angry fire. And as the smoke billowed and the flames rose, Tenma felt his own blood start to curdle.

In a place like this, full of so many old books…

Tenma shut his eyes, shaking his head slowly.

He...could hear their screams. 

_Fire! There's a fire!_

_The books will burn! Save the books!_

_”The door's locked...we can’t get out! Someone, help, we can’t get out!”_

He pulled at his wrists in earnest then. He could feel the material burn against his skin, pulling and pinching as he strained, twisting his wrists every diretion he could, trying desperately to pull his clenched fists through the bindings. It was starting to give way, painfully so. But he didn't have any other choice. He couldn't wait any longer.

A glance up to Grimmer had him pause for a half-second before redoubling his efforts.

Grimmer...didn’t seem to have that smile like before, that facade. He looked confused, even a little lost, holding the rifle in one hand as he watched the masses pile towards the doors far below, pushing and shoving as they tried to make some sort of escape. He was frowning, his brows knit together.

“I wonder what it is that you want.”

Grimmer’s shoulders sagged, burdened by some unknown heaviness. This, right now, was Tenma's best chance. He had to try.

“They’re all running over each other. Each of them is desperate to escape, ready to throw each other under their feet to be trampled. It’s a bit s-”

Grimmer cut himself short, turning around just in time to catch Tenma in the side of the head with his rifle. The resulting _crack_ resonated loudly between them, painful even in sound alone. Tenma had thought he saw an opening, but even mildly commenting on the chaos below, Grimmer hadn’t lost sight of his immediate surroundings. 

The doctor stumbled, catching himself before he fell completely, but Grimmer was already following up on the initial strike. He let the rifle fall for now, instead grabbing Tenma by the shoulders and using his forward momentum to force the man back to the ground. Despite the force behind his grip, the face he wore was calm, if not quite the smile that he usually had.

“It would be best if you stay down for now, doctor. If you don’t, then something terrible might happen. I could end up killing you. I really don’t want to do that.”

Grimmer’s expression changed, turning somber for a moment. There was no telling if it was genuine, or just another mask that he could put on. The look didn’t seem to reach his eyes, but so far Grimmer had made no effort to kill Tenma. He had immobilized him cleanly - perhaps to his own detriment, in the end - and had cast aside a weapon that certainly could kill him with ease. Tenma caught sight of a handgun holstered at his side, yet another easy kill. It was possible he really _didn’t_ want to.

Regardless, it wasn’t a plea that Tenma could abide by.

He brought a knee up, catching Grimmer off guard with a blow to the stomach. It was Tenma’s turn to act quickly; throwing Grimmer off of him wasn’t going to be easy, but the blow to his gut had at least slackened the man’s grip. That was enough. Tenma used that small freedom to put them into a roll, putting Grimmer beneath him - not unlike how Grimmer had overpowered him the first time. Unlike Grimmer, though, he made no attempt to pin the much larger man - he absolutely knew that he couldn’t. Instead he disengaged, pulling away - but even then Grimmer managed to get a move in, throwing his leg to trip the doctor backward.

There was a moment of shocked silence between the two as they stared one another down, Grimmer quickly getting to his feet, while Tenma stayed down for the moment.

In his hand was Grimmer’s gun.

It had been a reach, a desperate attempt to give himself an edge in a fight he knew he couldn’t win on his own strength. But now that he had the weapon….now, as he pointed it up at the man, he didn’t know….

His hands were shaking so, so terribly.

Grimmer still maintained a short distance, looking down at him with a tired smile. He sighed, closing his eyes, clearly completely unthreatened by the gun pointed at him.

“You should probably put that down. It’s not the sort of thing a person like you should be using.”

Despite the situation, Grimmer’s words sounded sincere. His voice...and even the look in his eyes. It wasn’t the same as before, in a way that Tenma couldn’t quite pinpoint. But the expression in his eyes...it was closer to what he saw that time, with the young boy on the way to Munich. A look that seemed to radiate something kinder. 

Tenma’s heart skipped a beat, and he shook his head. His gaze dropped for a moment, though he continued to grip the gun, his eyes hidden behind a veil of his unkempt, damp hair.

“Let me go.”

It was just three words, spoken terribly softly, but the urgent plea was heard all the same. Silence followed, and then a sigh. Tenma looked up again; Grimmer hadn’t moved, but the look on his face was darker now, filled with something that seemed sad.

“I can’t do that, doctor. I finally understand what it is he wants me to do.” 

He gestured back over his shoulder, toward the banister, where he had been watching the chaos unfolding below.

“He wants to show you something. There’s a message for you. I have to make sure that you see it.”

Tenma raised his gun, shaking though it was.

“I can save them. Let me go.”

Grimmer didn’t seem fazed in the least, stepping toward Tenma and shaking his head.

“I don’t think that you’re going to do it, doctor.” He smiled again, that same, warm facade he wore before. “You don’t have the right sort of heart for that.” 

Tenma straightened, raising the weapon higher, releasing the safety. His hands shook even more. 

“Let me go.”

He tried one more time. Just once, a final plea; he didn’t want to do this, and if Grimmer would just let him leave...but nothing he said, nothing he did, seemed to convince the man. He eased closer, reaching toward Tenma, toward the gun. He was probably going to disarm him. When that happened, Tenma had nothing. He would have no way to fight someone like Grimmer. If he didn’t act then he lost. And if he lost then everyone in this building was going to die.

So he…

He...

...

It was a quiet moment. There was no howl of pain, no wild flail of shock. Everything was drowned out by the screams from below. Grimmer coughed, glancing down at the wound, at the blood that had started to soak his shirt, just below his right shoulder. That arm was probably unusable now. 

He smiled at Tenma, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked at him with that unreadable face, even now. Even in this situation, Tenma had no idea what he was thinking. What he was feeling. He just stood there holding the injury, trying to staunch the flow of blood. He was leaning against the banister, which seemed to be all that kept him upright for now. Even if the wound itself wasn’t lethal, Grimmer was probably going into shock. And if he lost too much blood then…

Tenma had come here for a reason.

Johan was still here. And all of those people down below...if he didn’t help them…

Grimmer was an associate to Johan. If he saved someone like that right now…

Tenma took a step backward. The movement was sluggish, reluctant. It felt _wrong,_ made his insides twist. It was his legs, now, that were shaking.

_”Please, my mother can’t get up! Stop pushing! Someone...someone help me!”_

The nauseating moment was shattered, and he took a second step. That was easier. It felt as though some part of himself had chipped off, was clinging at his ankles, but at least now he felt like he could move. Grimmer watched, but made no effort to follow, though it was doubtful that he even _could._ Tenma kept the gun trained on him, a silent threat in case he changed his mind. The gun felt steadier in his hands now. They weren’t shaking, not at all. Grimmer was still just smiling, just standing there and smiling.

Twice.

Just like Bernhardt said.

Tenma shot him _twice._

**Author's Note:**

> I feel so bad for Tenma...
> 
> IMO if those two swapped roles in the narrative, Grimmer would wind up being a fairly sympathetic villain in that it's still Grimmer in personality and behaviour...he's still sweet on kids and personable, he's just....workin for the wrong side. The way I imagined it in this AU he helped Tenma a few times behind the scenes in evading the cops, and then one time they actually met and I mean....Grimmer doesn't give the impression of someone who works with Johan..
> 
> I think it'd be harder for Tenma to shoot him :( This is a bad AU


End file.
